The Matchmaker - The Arrax Saga Book 1 Chapter 146

Saphira tightened the last strap on her boots, fingers moving with practiced precision. The leather creaked faintly beneath her grip. Her hair was plaited back tightly, not a strand left loose, every detail deliberate.

Nikolas stood beside her, adjusting the clasp on his chest plate. His jaw was set, his eyes unreadable but locked in. He didn’t speak, and neither did she. They didn’t need to. The silence between them was full of readiness, of shared resolve, of everything they’d already said without words.

*This is it,* she thought, glancing once at him. *We’re in the zone now. No more hesitation.*

They stepped out together, boots echoing down the corridor in steady rhythm. The stone beneath them felt colder than usual, like the building itself was bracing for what was coming. The dining hall loomed ahead, warm light spilling through the doorway like a fragile shield against the night.

Inside, the others were already gathered, Zafira, Asher, Anastasia, Finn, and Amara, clustered around the long wooden table. Plates were half-filled, the air heavy with quiet tension. No one spoke. They just ate. Slow, deliberate bites. Fuel, not comfort.

Saphira slid into the seat beside Amara, Nikolas settling across from her. She reached for the roasted meat and bread, chewing without tasting. Her body needed it. Her mind was elsewhere, already rehearsing contingencies, bracing for the moment Lupus would step into view.

The silence stretched, thick and brittle.

Then Finn broke it.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself,” he said, voice low, eyes fixed on the table. “If I see them… after what they did… I just want to kill them.”

Saphira looked at him, her tone gentle but firm. “You don’t have to face them directly. You can help from behind the scenes, support, strategy, protection. But you need to ask yourself something.”

Finn’s jaw clenched as he glanced up, eyes dark with conflict.

“If things go bad,” she continued, “will you regret not being on the front line? Not being there when it counted? Not getting that revenge?”

He didn’t answer, but the question settled deep. His fingers curled around the edge of his plate, knuckles pale.

Nikolas leaned forward slightly, his voice steady. “Whatever you decide, we’ll support you.”

Saphira nodded, then turned to Zafira and Anastasia. “How are you both feeling about all this… considering you still don’t have your dragons?”

Anastasia exhaled slowly, her fingers curling around her cup. Her gaze flicked to Saphira, then down. “I’ll do the best I can to protect my family. But I want revenge too. On Lupus. For hiding you from me. For stealing time.”

Zafira looked down, her shoulders tense, then lifted her gaze again. “I feel useless,” she admitted. “But I can still fight.”

Asher reached for her hand, squeezing gently. “You’re not useless.”

She smiled at him, soft but real, her thumb brushing his knuckles. “As long as Silvermoon doesn’t take anyone I love… I can deal with it.”

Saphira’s gaze drifted to Amara, who hadn’t spoken. She was listening, eyes sharp, but silent. Her posture was still, but her fingers twitched against the edge of her plate.

Saphira said her name. Just that. Quiet. Intentional.

Amara looked up, meeting every gaze around the table. Her voice was quiet, but it didn’t waver. “I want revenge.”

Nikolas didn’t hesitate. “You’ll get it.”

Saphira watched Amara’s eyes, still dim, still haunted, but burning now with something else. *Resolve. Rage. The kind that doesn’t scream, it waits. And when it moves, it doesn’t miss.*

The dining hall was thick with quiet, the kind that clung to the walls and settled in the bones. Forks scraped softly against plates, but no one spoke. The tension was a living thing, coiled and waiting.

Then the door burst open.

Raven strode in, urgency etched into every line of her body. Her cloak was damp from the outside air, boots scuffed with mud, and her braid clung to her shoulder like it had been caught in the wind. Her eyes locked instantly onto Nikolas, sharp and unflinching.

Chairs creaked as bodies shifted. Forks paused mid-air. Every gaze snapped toward her.

Nikolas stood first, his voice sharp but controlled. “What’s wrong?”

Raven didn’t waste time. She walked straight to the group, her breath quick and uneven. “Silvermoon’s made a move.”

Saphira’s heart kicked hard against her ribs. She pushed her plate aside and stood. “What are they doing?”

Raven’s gaze flicked to her. “Lupus is approaching the main entrance. Alone.”

Saphira blinked, confusion tightening her brow. Her gaze darted to Nikolas, searching his face for an answer that wasn’t there. *Alone? That’s not his style. That’s not how he operates. He doesn’t do vulnerability, he performs it.*

Zafira stood too, her voice tense. “And the others?”

“They’re staying put,” Raven said. “Still at the northern ridge. Watching. Not moving.”

Nikolas’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing. “Where’s Jed? And the others?”

“At the front of the pack house,” Raven replied. “They’re waiting to see what happens next.”

Nikolas nodded, already moving. “Then we join them.”

He turned to Finn, who hadn’t moved. “You can come if you want. No pressure if you’d rather stay back.”

Finn didn’t answer. His eyes were locked on the table, jaw tight, fists clenched in his lap. Saphira saw the storm in him.

She didn’t push. Just followed Nikolas, her boots echoing against the stone as they left the hall. Zafira, Asher, and Anastasia fell in behind them, their expressions grim and silent. Outside, the air was colder, sharper, like the forest itself was holding its breath.

They reached the front of the pack house quickly. Jed was already there, flanked by warriors stationed at intervals, eyes scanning the treeline. Torches flickered in the wind, casting long shadows across the clearing. The scent of pine and damp earth clung to the air.

Saphira stood beside Nikolas, her hand brushing his as they waited. She could feel the tension in his fingers, the way his body was poised to move. *This is it. Whatever he’s come for, it starts now.*

A few moments later, footsteps approached from behind. Saphira turned to see Finn and Amara joining them, silent but steady. Determination carved into their faces like stone. Finn’s shoulders were squared, Amara’s eyes sharp and unblinking.

Saphira reached out with her mind-link, the connection sliding into place like a thread pulled taut. *“I’m by your side the whole time,”* she told Finn.

He glanced at her, just briefly, and nodded. *“Thank you.”*

And then they waited.

The minutes stretched, heavy and slow. Every rustle in the trees felt louder. Every breath felt like it might be the last before something broke. Saphira’s fingers curled around the edge of her belt. *Don’t flinch. Don’t blink. Just breathe.*

Then Jasper approached, his steps brisk, his face pale with tension. He stopped in front of Saphira and Nikolas, voice low and urgent.

“He’s reached the entrance,” Jasper said. “He’s asking to speak to Saphira. Alone.”

Saphira’s breath caught. Her heart stilled for a beat, then thundered back to life.

*So it begins.*